Two Poems by J.K. Durick

Snoring

We chose sides years ago,
From the foot of the bed
I'm on the left, my wife
On the right, a half court
Each, goals are not easy
To score, the advantage
Goes to the one who gets
To sleep first, a matter of
Timing and then position,
On our backs we can roar
From the depths of our being
Asleep, whine and wheeze,
The tone and range depend
On the day we left behind,
Restless pausing, running up
And down the scales, solo,
Nasal passages and throat
Partially obstructed, playing
Disturbing tunes over and
Over to a captive audience,
Our opponent in this odd
Contest, breathing exercise;
Sleeping we get away with
So much, disturb even our
Love ones, sometimes drive
Them out to a couch, the one
The dog isn't snoring on,
To wait out the storm of it;
Snoring settles after awhile
To a soft almost soothing hum
That couples come to know
Over the years, a peace offering
Worth the wait, rhythmical,
Reassuring, a thing we'd find
Hard to sleep without.



Inventory

We have set aside too many things
As if supply and demand had little
To do with everyday use, as if our
Demands could ever be satisfied
As if supply was the easy answer
We bought and brought, selected
And collected, this and that and yet
More to store away, let's just say
Until today, our day of reckoning
Of tabulating, getting the measure
Of our time spent, of our hoarding;

Here we have several shelves of
Canned goods, without opposing
Selves of canned evils, an obvious
Metaphysical flaw, a balance lacking
Like this explains the unread books
The recordings and tapes no one
Plays, like the tree falling way out
Somewhere with no one to hear it
Fall or call, and over here we have
Paper products, all useful things
Waiting us out, enough tissues to
Sneeze at, to wipe tears and noses
Soothe and suffer, paper plates and
Plastic cups, enough plastic knives
And forks to feed the troops, and
There are toys and games minus any
Children or anyone playful enough
Any more to find the sense in them;

There are cobwebs enough here too
And dust, as parts of our collection
Reminders of where all this is going
This supply and demand, our certainty
Our caution, our planning, inventory
Surrounded by cobwebs, turning to
Dust, as we sit here counting it all.

J.K. Durick is a writing teacher at the Community College of Vermont and an online writing tutor.  His recent poems have appeared in Boston Literary Magazine, Black Mirror, Third Wednesday, Thrush Poetry Journal, and Ink, Sweat, and Tears.